


How Soon Is Now

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Drama, Gap Filler, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-11
Updated: 2007-04-11
Packaged: 2018-12-27 09:51:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12078654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Reworked and Reposted.  What happened between "I'm gay" and Jack's arrival at the loft?





	How Soon Is Now

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

  
Author's notes: I just could NOT understand what prompted Jack to do such a turnaround from "you're the one who should be dying" to "don't tell your Mom". I had to find some way to explain it. I had my first version of this story kicking around my hard drive for MONTHS and it was making me crazy because I couldn't get it "just right". I finally posted it thinking maybe if I got away from it for a bit, I'd get past the block I was having with it. I was right. Some really great feedback inspired the rework. So here is the new (hopefully, improved) version. It's still unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine.  


* * *

"Did I hear Brian?" Joan asks as she comes into the garage with another small box. My little clean up project is making her crazy. I started it because I wanted to go through my things myself and not have someone else do it after die. The fact that it's driving Joan is a bonus. She hates clutter. I hate her.  
  
"Jack?" I can hear her voice, shrill as always, but all I can see are Brian's eyes. My son's eyes blazing with anger as he reminded me of my impending doom.  
  
"Fine, ignore me. What else is new?" The kitchen door slams behind her. Those two sounds seem to be the sum total of our life together. Silence and slamming doors. I need to get out of here. I have a place where I feel at home, but this isn't it.  
  
"Hey, Mike! Gimme my usual." Great, just great. I hear Tommy greet our bartender. I'm hiding in the back corner of the Union Hall, something I never do, but I needed to escape the house. It's usually pretty quiet on nights like this. I thought I could brood in peace. Maybe Tommy won't see me.  
  
"Evening Tommy. How's the new grandson of yours?" I scoff. I can't help it. Claire's boys are brats and I usually can't wait until they leave, but Tommy loves his grandkids.  
  
Even though I never wished married life on Brian, I wondered once or twice what his kids might turn out like. Between the cancer and the bomb he dropped on me tonight, I guess I'll never know. I'm not Grandpa of the Year material, hell I'm not really much of anything material, but it would be interesting to see if I could spend time with grandkids that I enjoyed. If being a grandparent could be better than being a parent.  
  
Tommy O'Brien is like the perfect family guy even though he regularly hangs here with us schleps at the Hall. I've never been able to understand how he makes his wife deal with it. The Warden bitches every time I set foot out the door. A few years back his kids started having kids and now he routinely shows off pictures of the "grandbabies" before a round of poker. I can't even imagine that being me.  
  
"Growing like a weed! He'll be three months old soon." I don't need to see Tommy's face to know he's grinning like an idiot. After three girls, someone finally popped out a boy. A grandson. And they named the kid after Tommy, no less. To old Micks like us, that's a big deal.   
  
"That's great, Tommy. He'll be tearing up the place in no time!" Tonight their easy laughter makes me feel out of place in the only place I call home. Damn you, Brian!  
  
Tommy sees me on his way back to the bar from the john. I actually pray that he doesn't stop at the booth and want to talk. As usual, Joan's god isn't listening because even though he walks past the booth, he's seen me. I can hear him talking to Mike.  
  
"What's up with Kinney?" My son's a fag, that's what.   
  
"Don't know. He's been like that all night. He came in, got a drink and sat down. Been there ever since. Not like Jack."  
  
"No. Gimme two more." Well, at least if he's coming back, he's bringing another round with him.   
  
I have a quick flash of the last time Brian was here at the Hall and we had a few rounds together. I enjoyed his company that night. I still can't believe it. My son is gay. Brian. A fairy. "I'm gay." Queer. "But I'm not dying you selfish old prick, you are." Brian. A fairy. It just kept playing over and over in my head like some bad newsreel. I can't wipe the image of the blazing hatred in his eyes or the slight smile on his face either. I'll be dead soon and not him. I'm the one who did all the things I was supposed to do in life – job, marriage, family – okay maybe I didn't do it well, but I did it. He's the one going against nature, but I'm the one who's dying of cancer and he gets to gloat with that smirk on his face? What the fuck is up with that?  
  
How did a son of mine end up gay anyway? No one in my family is queer. They're all hearty old Irishmen. No one like that little poof Brian was friends with in school. Michael something. Now that kid was a fairy! Maybe it was his fault? Maybe it was Michael's influence and not something wrong in the family? Yeah! Then I realize how many nights Brian spent at that kid's house and I can't help but wonder if maybe Brian and Michael had been more than friends? I want to puke all over the table at the thought. Ugh. Kill me now.  
  
Oh yeah, let's not forget my good friend cancer. Why did Brian decide to tell me now? In a few more months and it wouldn't have mattered! I'd be gone and none the wiser. Brian had good looks, money, success and few responsibilities. He could work or play as hard as he wanted and there was no one to nag him about it. All the things I wanted out of life, and didn't get. All of that was shattered by two little words. "I'm gay."   
  
"How about a refill, Jack?"  
  
Tommy? Oh yeah. I forgot he was around. He's holding out a glass and looking at me like I've lost my mind or something. I guess I kind of have.  
  
"Oh, thanks." I down the drink in one gulp.  
  
"Take it easy, Jack."   
  
We sit in silence for a few uncomfortable minutes. I've still got a swirl of crazy thoughts in my head and the image of Brian's eyes pops up every few seconds.  
  
"So what's the problem, Jack?"  
  
"Problem? What problem?"  
  
"Don't play dumb with me. Anyone with eyes can see something is wrong. You're usually the life of the party and here you are hiding in a corner looking like someone died. Did someone die?"   
  
"Not yet."  
  
"Who's dying, Jack?"  
  
"Me."  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
"You heard me. I've got cancer." At least he looks upset. Joan didn't even look this bothered by the news.  
  
"Geez, no wonder you look so bad. How bad is it?"  
  
"Bad enough. Started in my lungs, but now it's everywhere."  
  
"When did you find out?"  
  
"Last summer."  
  
"Wha…? You've known since last summer and haven't said anything?"  
  
"I wasn't going to say anything to anyone but The Warden insisted. I had to tell the kids the other day."  
  
"Oh." He nods, every guy in here knows about The Warden.   
  
"So what happened tonight that's got you hiding in a corner?"  
  
I don't answer for a long time. I don't know if I can answer.   
  
"Brian paid me a visit tonight."   
  
"Brian? Is he okay?"  
  
I snort. How is having your only son be a fag okay?  
  
"Brian still works for that fancy ad agency, right?"  
  
Another snort. "Yep, Mr. Successful is still rolling in dough."  
  
"Is he sick?"  
  
I damn near choke. Sick is one word for it. "That's a loaded question."  
  
Tommy sighs, probably thanking God that he didn't end up part of the Kinney clan. "So, is Brian sick or not?"  
  
"He's healthy, I guess."  
  
"Okay," Mike sets the next round down and leaves.   
  
"So, he's not sick and he's not unemployed. Did he get some girl pregnant?"   
  
I do choke this time.  
  
When I finally stop coughing, Tommy is still waiting for an answer.  
  
"Not hardly."  
  
"So then what's the problem? Just spit it out Jack. It's obviously eating you up."  
  
I weigh my options. What would the guys say if they found out? Would I ever be able to show my face again? I don't have much time left, but I want to enjoy what I can. The Hall is one of the few places I can be sure The Warden won't come after me.  
  
But Tommy and I have been in the Union together for over 35 years. He's watched Brian grow up. And if there was anyone in the Hall who I could tell, it would be Tommy.  
  
"Jack, does Brian have a girlfriend?" What? Where the hell did that come from? I can't even answer him.  
  
"Jack is Brian gay?" My head snaps up so fast it hurts. Tommy looks like he's braced for a punch. How in the hell did he know?  
  
"Keep your voice down!" I demand in a harsh whisper.  
  
"Well?" How can he be so fucking calm about this?  
  
"How the fuck did you know? Did he tell you? Does it show?" I'm panicking and there isn't a thing I can do to stop it.  
  
"No, Jack. He didn't. I guessed. And I'm guessing he only just told you."  
  
Ah fuck, that's just what I needed was for the guys in the Hall to be able to tell Brian was a fairy just by looking at him! If there is a God, I hope he kills me off quickly. At this rate, there will be no peace at all in the last few months of my pathetic life.  
  
"Yeah, Sonny Boy paid me a little visit tonight. Just to tell me that. Like I don't have enough on my mind already with the cancer and The Warden nagging me every minute, my son decides he can't let me die in peace and just has to tell me he's a fairy!"  
  
Tommy looks at me with what can only be described as pity. If I weren't so wiped out from everything that has already happened tonight, that would royally piss me off.  
  
"Jack, I've been listening to you go on and on for years about how Brian was living the life." I shoot him a look loaded with daggers, but he goes on. "Those were your words. We've all heard about his fancy job, how well he was doing. Hell, we've all seen him come in here and give you money."  
  
I'm going to have whiplash at the rate this conversation was going. How did Tommy know about the money?   
  
"Easy, Jack. I'm not mentioning the money to make you look bad. What I'm saying, is that in your own way, you've been proud of Brian for years. And he's been there for you." Me? Proud of Brian? He escaped the domestic life, I wouldn't have called it proud before now, but I guess that's what it was.  
  
"So?" What did any of that matter now?  
  
"So? So, does he still have the same job?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Does he still have the same place to live? Car to drive? Same amount of money?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess." Again, what does it matter now?  
  
"Five minutes, hell five seconds before Brian told you he was gay, would you have traded places with him if you could?"  
  
That isn't a fair question! I'm not nearly drunk enough for this kind of shit.  
  
"I'll take your silence as a yes."  
  
I need another round.  
  
"Okay then, why is anything different now? He's still the same Brian. He's a grown man who has obviously kept this from you for a long time. He's been gay all this time. You just didn't know it. Why does it matter now that you know?"  
  
Mike drops off fresh drinks. The familiar burn of the liquor is comforting.  
  
"Where the fuck is this coming from, Tommy? Are you going to tell me you're a fairy now, too?" My words are harsh and low. I can't take any more surprises today.  
  
"No Jack, I'm not gay. I'm just trying to make you see that it isn't such a big deal."  
  
"How the hell can you say that? It is a big deal!"  
  
"I can say that because I have a nephew who is gay. Remember Robert? He lives in Philly now, but he told us he was gay back when he was in college. It wasn't easy at first, but I realized it really didn't matter. He was still the same kid I used to take fishing and he was still the same person he was the day before he told us he was gay. He's a lot like Brian, too. Smart, successful, ambitious."  
  
"I doubt that Saint Joan or the rest of the guys in this room would be so understanding."  
  
"Joan doesn't know yet?"   
  
Not that I know of, she doesn't. I'm sure I would have heard about it if Brian had told her already. She probably would have found a way to make it my fault.  
  
"I doubt it. If she did, she'd probably never leave the fucking church. She'd be praying for his soul or some shit like that."  
  
"So he trusted you."  
  
What?  
  
"Jack, I get it. I really do. I won't tell anyone, but just think about what I said. Brian has been this way for a long time, you just didn't know it. He must have had a reason to trust you now when he could have easily just let it go and let the cancer take care of everything. Just think about things before you do anything, okay? See ya tomorrow."  
  
Tommy gives me a comforting pat on the shoulder before he leaves. I stay at the Hall until closing and then head back to the house. Joan is no where in sight. Thank, God! She's probably upstairs with her rosary and her bible. And her communion wine. Saint Joan, hah! I pour another drink and head back to the garage. The boxes from earlier are still there, including the one spilled over from Brian's punch. That was some punch. I was sure Sonny Boy was going to hit me, but he didn't.  
  
Which is more than Brian could say. I never pulled any punches with him.  
  
I set to picking up the spilled contents and notice some old pictures. The light is better at the workbench, so I take the pictures and my drink over there. Some dance thing of Claire's from when she was little. A very small Claire in a Halloween costume. Claire's blowing out three candles on a cake. A lot of pictures of Claire, a few of me and Joan from our younger days. Were we ever really that young? Or that happy? We look happy, but I can't remember it. More pictures of little Claire. Where are the pictures of Brian? Finally, near the bottom of the pile, I find one. According to the notation on the back, Brian was four months old.   
  
I look happy in that picture and end up staring at it for a long time. I'm smiling and Brian seemed content in my arms. Why is it that I can't remember the day this picture was taken or actually feeling the way I look?  
  
God knows it's come up in enough fights over the years to be a family joke of sorts, but I didn't want kids. When Claire was born, I figured I could deal with it, but by the time Joan announced she was pregnant with Brian, I knew I couldn't. I was already feeling trapped and unhappy and adding another kid to the mix didn't seem like a good idea. I told her I wanted to get rid of it, but she refused. Looking back now, it was then that she really started to turn to the church more and more. And I felt like the noose around my neck got tighter and tighter.   
  
The more pregnant she got, the more angry I got. Things were tense until the day Brian was born. I flat out refused to go to the hospital with her when she went into labor. Her family was pissed! But when her sister called with the news that it was a boy, I went down. There is just something different about a son than a daughter.   
  
I don't remember Brian being a fussy baby. He always seemed to be watching what was going on around him. Quietly taking it all in. He was a fast learner and hit all the milestones early. I do remember being proud about that and Joan bragging to her church biddies.   
  
By the time Brian had started school though, we weren't getting along at all. I wanted to be a free man. She was devoted to the church. We were always at odds. I wanted to play, she wanted to pray. The kids getting older didn't help the situation either. Claire was a quiet, mousy kid who seemed content to quietly exist in the background for a long time. But not Brian, he was the polar opposite. He got good grades in school, played sports and always seemed to be off somewhere. I remember being pissed about that, thinking his life was a little too carefree. I would make up extra work for Brian to do around the house just so he'd have less time to be out running around with his friends. Clearly, Brian had gotten the looks in the family, too.   
  
I resented the hell out of him. It was always simmering in the back of my mind that he was the reason I was stuck in this pathetic life. Never mind that Claire and Joan were there first. I never said I made sense. Right this minute, I know it wasn't his fault, but back then, you couldn't have convinced me of that. I was angry with at my own kid for being smarter, more ambitious, and better looking. How pathetic. More so because not much had changed over the years. Until tonight, I was still jealous of Brian, right up until he uttered to two little words that changed it all.  
  
The two words that had apparently started an evening of introspection. What is that expression, hindsight is 20/20?  
  
I can clearly remember the first time my father hit me. The shock and the emotional hurt was more than the physical pain itself. I was surprised that first time and tried to avoid future occurrences as much as possible. I may be dense at times, but I wasn't stupid.  
  
I realize now with shocking clarity that there was never that look of surprise on Brian's face that first time. Hurt, yes, it was hard to cover that up. Contempt, yes, that was there, too. But I can't recall any trace of surprise. It was like Brian had been expecting it all along. Had he known, even at that early age that I didn't want him?   
  
Over the years, Brian's fiercely independent streak grew and so did the tension in the house. Sure, there were times when things seemed fine. The Warden would force us to act like a family, mostly so her church ladies wouldn't know what a farce our marriage was. I can remember moments here and there that were almost fun, like taking Brian bowling. Ah, the Eastway Kings were a great time! But more often then not all I can remember are the fights. Whether I was fighting with Joan or fighting with Brian, there always seemed to be a fight. Whenever there was a chance to (literally) knock the boy down a few notches, I did. I wanted to keep that independent streak in check.  
  
Reliving my life with new eyes is scary. And sad. Is this what they mean when people say things like "your life flashes before your eyes" when you know you're going to die? There were so many fights, trips to the doctor, excuses to be invented. So much anger, so much hate. So little happiness. Do we even know how to be happy?   
  
It's painfully obvious to me now that I knew nothing about Brian's childhood outside the house then or his private life now. Joan dragged me into Claire's life more often than I ever wanted. She was always running to Mommy when things didn't work out like some damn romance novel. Joan, of course, dragged me into it whenever she felt Claire "needed her father." What a load of crap. But Brian never involved us in anything – and we never involved ourselves in anything he did either.  
  
I can recall being forced to sit through dozens of boring school events for Claire, but not even one of Brian's. And there had to have been some. He had shelves lined with trophies in his bedroom from the sports he'd played and he'd gotten in to that hot shot university of his on a scholarship, so there had to have been games or awards banquets or something, right? So why hadn't we ever been there? There were pictures in that box from all different stages of Claire's life, but so few of Brian.  
  
Did we both resent him?   
  
I always thought it was just me, but looking back, again – god was this introspection shit ever going to end? Looking back, Joan was never really close to Brian either. I escaped to the Hall and my bowling league, but Joan had withdrawn to her church. I can't ever remember Joan doing any of the usual "motherly" things like PTA or parties or field trips. She spent time with Claire, but neither of us spent a lot of time with Brian. Ever.  
  
Joan and Claire still spend time together and they still go to church together. I only went a few times when we were first married. Brian went as a young kid. He hated it as much as I did, but he had to go, I didn't. Joan even forced him to be an altar boy for a while. Then somewhere around age ten? Or was it nine? Or eleven? I can't remember exactly, he was always so damn tall. It made him look older. He and Joan came home fighting one Sunday and that was it for Sonny Boy.   
  
I still find that fight funny. The Warden was furious. Brian had flat out refused to go back to church with her after that mass. I never did find out why, but it was quite a scene. Joan yelling at him that he had to go back, that he had no choice in the matter and Brian calmly telling her that there wasn't a force on earth that could make him go back. Come to think of it, his eyes were blazing then, too. Just like they were tonight. Same little smirk, too.   
  
Joan had just laughed at that and called me into the kitchen. Of course, I had already heard the whole thing from the den, so I knew what was up. I thought Brian was just being defiant at the time and gave him a split lip for his trouble, but I had to admit I was impressed at the way Brian had refused to give up, even in the face of physical punishment. Since I hated going to mass and blamed the church for a good many of our marriage problems, I silently sided with Brian on that one and let it go after that smack in the kitchen. Didn't want the boy to get too cocky and all that.  
  
I wonder exactly happened at mass that day? Brian had hated going for a long time, but something had to have happened to make him risk both of our tempers. I guess a better father would know this stuff. My thoughts venture in a hundred directions from tame to terrible as to what could have happened. I guess I'll never know because I can't see Brian and I having a heart to heart about it now.  
  
Face it Kinney, you should have stuck to your guns and never been a family man. I tell myself for the millionth time. I suck as a father. My eyes land on a picture of Claire's high school graduation and I realize I wasn't even at Brian's graduation. High school or college. Brian had gotten those scholarships and moved out the day of graduation. There were practically skid marks under his feet he was out of here so fast. And I wrote him off just as quickly.   
  
The Warden demanded Brian's presence at holiday dinners after he left home. Brian would show up for a few hours, always with flowers for his mother, but that was it. Those few hours would either be quiet and tense if Joan was in the mood to talk to Brian because he was never in the mood to talk back. They would be loud and painful if Claire, her husband-of-the-moment or her brats were in the mood to throw their opinions around. Or they would end in punches if the whisky had been flowing freely. He finally stopped coming to everything but Christmas. As Brian started getting more successful, I realized that the boy could be useful and managed to see him every few months at the Hall. Brian showed up faithfully, envelope at the ready each time.  
  
I'm not sure I want to know what that says about either of us.  
  
At least Brian won't turn out like me. If he's into men, he'll never have kids and continue this fine fucked up Kinney tradition of dysfunctional families.  
  
Maybe Tommy was right. Maybe it isn't such a big deal. Brian is still a good looking kid who has a great job, a fancy place to live, plenty of money and no one to nag him when he's out partying. I was jealous right up until the moment Brian said "I'm gay." And hadn't Brian actually looked scared when he said it?   
  
The fact is that Brian is better than I am and always will be. He's made something of himself and the fact that he could have easily knocked his old man on his ass with that punch, but didn't, proved he was a better man as well. I find myself staring at the picture of Brian as a baby. Sonny Boy had grown up well in spite of everything Joan and I had done, or not done. So what if he was a fag?  
  
Who am I kidding? It matters. A lot. But I only have a few months left and I probably won't see Brian all that much anyway. Maybe I can do one thing right for Sonny Boy. I put the picture into my coat pocket and head in to get a few hours rest before the Warden starts her day.   
  
"Hey Sonny Boy, anyone home?" The beat up metal door is partially open. The place really does look like a dump from the outside, but it's anything but on the inside. It drips money and elegance and a taste for the finer things in life. Is that a success thing or a gay thing?  
  
"What are you doing here?" Brian emerges half dressed, his voice dripping with scorn. Well, I didn't expect a warm welcome, did I? But what exactly did I interrupt? Maybe I'm not ready for this after all.  
  
"I'll only be a minute." I put my hands up in mock surrender. "I found something when I was going through some boxes and I thought you might want it. I hand over the picture. "That's me and you when you were four months old."  
  
"Why are you smiling?"  
  
"It's a photograph, isn't that what you're supposed to do?" My resolve is slipping. It isn't easy to be nice or sentimental when I can't remember days that had been happy.  
  
"I don't want it." It doesn't feel too good when Brian tosses the picture on the floor and walks away. Gimme a break here, kid. I'm trying!  
  
"You might change your mind one day when I'm gone!" Joan isn't the only one who can work the guilt thing.  
  
"I doubt it." And yeah, Sonny Boy makes sure to look me right in the eye. Defiant as always.   
  
"You know you could really pack a whallop for a fag." Not the classiest apology ever, but Brian would recognize it for what it was. Acceptance.  
  
I keep moving closer to where Brian disappeared. He hasn't thrown me out yet, so I have to assume this is still going in my favor. No one else has emerged from the bedroom in a state of undress and I'm and thanking my lucky stars for that. I seriously doubt I could handle it.  
  
"Just don't tell your mother, you understand?" Hell no, Joan would have a stroke over this and she'd never be okay with it. Her precious bible wouldn't let her. "She'll be at fricking mass three times a day praying for…" and what the hell is this? Lindsay Peterson. Yeah, I remember her. Brian used to bring her around sometimes. We assumed she was a girlfriend. Oh! Maybe that was the point? But what is she doing here on his bed while he's half dressed? A baby gurgles. That's right Brian had been watching a boy when I was over the other night.  
  
"You still think you're a ladies man?" Brian finally speaks up from the corner he had retreated to earlier. I absolutely can not read him right now, so I focus on Lindsey.  
  
"You have yourself a beautiful son." I look to Brian for some sign that I should stay, but there is still no reaction from the corner. Well, at least I can go to my grave saying I tried. Maybe it was too little too late, but I made some sort of effort. "Well, I guess I'll be on my way."  
  
"There's someone else I want you to say hello to." When I turn back around, Brian is holding the baby. "Your grandson."  
  
What.The.Fuck?  
  
"My grandson?" Is Brian ever going to stop shocking me? Before I realize it, my feet have moved me back to the stairs where Brian has the baby snuggled up close to his face. Yeah, there is a resemblance that I hadn't noticed the other night. But how?  
  
"What the fuck's going on? Are you screwing with me Sonny Boy?"  
  
"No, I'm not screwing with you." A look to Lindsay confirms this is for real. Well, fuck.  
  
"Jack, would you like to hold him?"  
  
Would I? Yeah, I would. Surprisingly, I really would.   
  
"Oh I…It's been a while you know, since I held a baby, but yeah." Claire's boys were always so loud as babies! I could never stand to be around for very long. This little boy seems to have that same quiet disposition Brian had. He doesn't even cry when I hold him.  
  
Brian walks away, but as Lindsay is telling me the boy's name was Gus, I see him picking the picture up off the floor.  
  
It takes Brian a while to come back around to Lindsay, Gus and I. Eventually we move to the living room and play with Gus some more while I find out things like how old he was and how Brian came to have a son. It certainly wasn't the night I had planned on, but I'm glad I did it. Sonny Boy and his fiercely independent streak are alive and well. He's still determined to do things his own way, but not necessarily loud or in your face about it. He just does it. I admit to hating that trait when he was a kid. I tried more than once to knock it out of him, but now, I'm glad I didn't succeed. It's obviously served him well and he'll need it to continue to survive in a world full of people like The Warden. Brian's son is beautiful and after seeing them together, even for this short time, I can see that their relationship will be nothing like ours. Sonny Boy deserved better from us. I'm glad Gus will get better from him.  
  
When Lindsay leaves, I decide it's a good time for me to go, too. I notice a drawing on the counter as we pass by. It's of Brian and Gus and damn good. Gus is curled up sleeping on Brian's chest and the look on Brian's face clearly shows his love for his son. I don't know who the artist is, but the way Brian's face softens for a split second before he gets that hard ass look back in place tells me it's someone special. He carefully takes the sketch and puts it in his desk. He's almost reverent with it and Lindsay is just glowing as she watches him. I'm not sure I want to know. It may be more than I'm willing to know.  
  
We all walk down together and see them off. Before I drive away, I decide to offer one more thing and let Brian decide what to do with it.  
  
"The boys and I will be at the Hall tomorrow night for poker. Stop by if you're not busy." Brian looks like he's landed in an episode of Twilight Zone. "Oh and bring a picture of Gus. I want to show Tommy O'Brien he's not the only one with a good looking grandson!"   
  
Sonny Boy is still standing there stunned as I drive away. I have no idea if he'll show up tomorrow or if I'll even see him again before the cancer gets me, but at least I know I've done one thing right by him in this lifetime.


End file.
